Of Mabaris and Men
by LiveFastDieBeautiful21
Summary: Random one-shots from both DA:O and DA2. Everything from awkward situations to heartwarming moments, with a dash of "I'm not even sorry" thrown in for good measure. Feel free to give a prompt/suggestion/idea! Newest prompt: Long, Cold Winters
1. The Candle in the Window

**A/N: **Fanfiction is what I use to battle writer's block with my novels, so little prompts like this have become what I use to battle writer's block for my fanfics. I suppose it was inevitable.

Anyway, this will probably be updated every week or so, whenever I have one of these actually finished. The prompts will use both OCs and companions as the main character. I'll try to stick to one main Hawke/Warden, but I'll occasionally throw in a character from another fic. Or, in the case of this one, use a generic Hawke.

Feel free to give prompts/suggestions/ideas!

**Prompt: The Candle in the Window**

* * *

The little flame flickered and danced in the pale moonlight, casting a soft reflection in the glass of the window. The two flames waltzed with each other, mirroring the other's steps in flawless, erratic movements. A wispy tendril of smoke bled from the tip of the fire, twisting and writhing as Hawke's breath interrupted its rise. Her hazel eyes followed a drip of wax as it broke from the top of the candle and rolled down the side, slowly and deliberately, until it settled onto the windowsill with the rest of the escaped wax.

As if mimicking the candle, a warm tear broke from the corner of Hawke's eye, rolling down her already wet cheek and falling from the tip of her chin to sink into the soft fabric of her house robe, joining where the other tears had pooled into a little moist spot on the arm of her robe.

"Hawke?" Anders' voice drifted from their bedroom, tinged with concern.

Wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her robe, Hawke did her best to keep her voice steady. "I'm out here." She kept her eyes trained on the flame, watching as her breath mangled the fire and sent it thrashing and squirming before settling back into its calm flicker.

"Can't sleep?"

She shook her head. "Nightmares."

Anders' voice was lighter when he spoke again. "Trust me, I know how that is."

Guilt spasmed through Hawke, transforming the ghostly ache in her chest into a throbbing, painful reminder that her nightmares would never be as terrible as Anders' were. "I'm sorry," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and biting down on her lip to keep more tears from escaping. "I'm so sorry, Anders." She stood and turned to face Anders, her heart dropping as she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Between his nightmares and hers, he wasn't getting nearly enough sleep, and Hawke knew she was just making it worse.

"Don't be, love." He took her in his arms, holding her tightly as her tears dripped onto his bare chest.

"I have to be, Anders." Hawke's voice broke and she cringed at the sound of her own weakness. "It's been a year. A whole year." The tragedy remained unspoken, but the haunting memories filled the room regardless. Exactly one year ago, Hawke had ventured into the lair of a madman in hopes of saving her mother, but had left a broken woman.

More broken than when she'd lost her father, or Carver, or even sweet Bethany.

Because, when she'd lost her mother, she'd lost everything. Kirkwall had been Leandra's idea. The estate was Leandra's old home. The Amell prestige belonged to Leandra. The strength that Hawke had always prided herself on, the unwavering, unyielding resolve—that was Leandra's, too.

Even the damned dog had been Leandra's idea.

"Do you want to do something?"

Hawke titled her face up to Anders, confusion shining in her eyes.

"Do you want to do something?" he repeated, smiling down at her. "Go to the Chantry, or something. We could take a trip down to Lothering, even." His smile faded at Hawke's lack of response, but Anders kissed her forehead softly and insisted, "Whatever you want to do, I'll make it happen."

"You really mean that? You'd risk a trip to Lothering just to visit my father's grave?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion; she'd mentioned wanting to visit her old home, but that had been months ago, and she hadn't expected Anders to remember.

"Anything. I promise." Anders' smile returned. "But for now, you should try and get some sleep." He reached over and pinched out the flame of the little candle, returning the room to a serene equilibrium of moonlight and shadows.

When Hawke had lost her mother, she'd lost everything. Everything, it seemed, except Anders, and that was so much more than a broken woman like Hawke ever thought deserved.


	2. Calling

**Prompt:**

**First line: "When the phone rang at midnight I knew…"  
Last line: "I should have trusted my instincts."**

**Notes: Kya Surana **I created Kya for "Why The Hero of Ferelden Owes Me Lunch" and then I killed her. But I fell in love with her spunk and attitude that I couldn't let her go. She's probably going to be the main Warden that I use in the stories, but maybe not. Also, this story doesn't really capture her attitude, so we'll be seeing her again. [**Edit**: That's not a spoiler. Kya is only mentioned, we never meet her.]

I also got a prompt by **Apollo Wings **that I'll be doing soon. It's been absolutely forever since I've played Awakenings, so I'm trying to do a quick(ish) playthrough before I write it. It's a fun prompt though and I'll definitely do it!

On that note - please leave prompts/suggestions! I'll do them all :)

**Calling**

* * *

When the phone rang at midnight I knew something was wrong.

I never got phone calls. Not that late, at least.

My first thought was to just let it ring. After all, the Warden-Commander needs her sleep, right? I let the phone ring two or three times before pushing away the very bad feeling I was beginning to get.

But, I knew I couldn't let it go. Mostly, I didn't want to bother Zevran on one of his rare visits to Vigil's Keep, but I also figured that if it wasn't important, it would be _Nathaniel's_ phone ringing, not mine. So, I slid out of bed and wrapped up in my house robe and made my way into the front room. Was I deliberately taking my time? Probably.

The phone rang again and again. When I finally reached the counter, the first thing I did was check the Caller ID.

_Private Caller._

Of course. It's always private. With a little sigh, I picked up the phone. "This is the Warden-Commander's office."

"Kya, it's…" The voice was small and timid, but easily recognizable.

"Teagan?" I managed, trying to stifle a yawn. "What's going on?" The little nagging feeling in the corner of my mind wouldn't go away, reminding me that answering this dumb phone was a bad, _bad_ idea.

Teagan was silent for a moment. "I have good news and bad news," he stuttered, his tone almost like a bad attempt at lightening the mood.

"Good news first. Definitely."

"There's going to be a big celebration at the palace next month." He stammered over the word _celebration_. "For the queen. You're invited, of course. It's the… the king's wish that you be there to…" Teagan cleared his throat.

I wasn't entirely certain why his words sent a chill thrilling down my spine, but I was fairly sure it had to do with his hesitancy. "And the bad news?" I prompted slowly. He didn't answer right away, and I began to pace around the room. Teagan still didn't answer. My eyes flew to the clock, where the bright red display screamed that it was just after midnight. I watched the minutes change, biting down on my lip to expend some of my quickly building nervous energy.

"It's Alistair," Teagan finally revealed. "He's… It's time."

At Teagan's whispered words, I dropped the phone. It clattered to the floor, but I paid no attention.

My king. My Warden. My _Alistair_.

Gone.

Everything we'd been through—the Blight, the Landsmeet, the trip to the Urn of Sacred Ashes, Morrigan—it all seemed pointless, because now, he was gone, lost to the darkness of the Deep Roads and the taint in his blood.

We could've let Loghain ruin our country. We could've let the Archdemon destroy Denerim. We could've let Eamon die, the werewolves remain cursed, the Tower collapse…

Either way, Alistair would still be gone and I was next.

It was then that I realized Teagan's voice was still echoing from the phone, but I ignored him. Instead, I glanced back into the bedroom, where Zevran was.

_I was next_.

Alistair was leaving behind a wife and country who loved him, and—despite all odds—a son who looked up to him. I had nothing. For years, I'd built myself up with the help of Alistair and Zevran; no matter how many Wardens I met, Alistair was the only one who seemed to _understand_ everything we'd been through, and Zevran… Perhaps I found attempts at assassination a bit endearing. I was romantic like that, I supposed.

But now, I had lost Alistair.

Grinding my teeth, I gave the phone one good glare before returning to bed. I didn't feel like dealing with this anymore; with any luck, I'd wake up in the morning and find out it had all been a bad dream.

I'd never been a lucky person, but there's a first time for everything, I figured.

I pulled the sheets up to my chin and glowered at the ceiling, knowing I wouldn't find sleep anytime soon. I hated Teagan. I hated phones. Mostly, I really hated that I had answered. I knew I should've trusted my instincts.


	3. Of Mabaris and Men

**Prompt: Write a chilling, edge-of-the-seat, stay-up-late-reading suspenseful story about whether your character will get the new puppy he wants.**

**Notes: Evangeline Hawke **She's going to be the Hawke that I use most of the time, similar to Kya Surana for Origins. Oh, and, Eva is a blood mage. It's mentioned here, but isn't important yet.

No, I didn't follow the prompt. I started to, but the temptation to write a cute, fluffy Anders scene was too great. Also, I wanted to write something happier than the last two.

**Of Mabaris and Men**

* * *

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"_No._"

"Pretty _pretty _please?"

Anders threw up his hands in frustration, sending the papers he was writing flying to the ground. "You're the Champion of Kirkwall, Hawke. If you _really_ want a puppy, get one. You don't have to ask _my_ permission." He leaned down to retrieve the papers, then added with a grunt, "It's your estate, anyway."

Eva felt her face melt into a pout. "If you don't want me to, I won't," she mumbled, twisting a piece of her auburn hair around one of her slender fingers. "It's just that none of the cats stay at the estate."

"If we got a kitten and _raised_ it there, it would stay," he pointed out.

"Maybe. But I don't want a kitten. I want a Mabari."

The clinic was silent.

With a tired sigh, Eva sauntered over to Anders and sat on the edge of his desk, her shadow draping over his papers. "Are you really okay with me getting a puppy?" she asked, beginning to swing her legs lightly and letting her feet tap his chair.

"I deal with your blood magic, don't I?" Anders looked up to meet her gaze, a slight smile beginning to form. "How hard can a puppy be?"

Ignoring the blood magic comment, Eva snatched the paper away from Anders. "Certainly easier than listening to you go on about this manifesto," she grinned.

"That's a recipe for an antidote for spider poison, love."

Her eyes grazed the paper and she sighed. "Whatever." Eva tossed the paper back on the desk and hopped off. "I'm going to get my puppy."

* * *

Even at only two months old, Eva's new Mabari puppy was barely small enough to fit on her lap. The puppy shook its tawny head, sending drool flying onto both the couch and Eva. With a little laugh, she wiped her face and gave her puppy a good scratch behind the ears.

"You little troublemaker, you," she cooed. "What am I going to name you?"

The Mabari cocked its head, staring up at her expectantly.

"Anders once had a kitten named Ser Pounce-a-lot," Eva informed the Mabari, absentmindedly stroking his rough fur. "I suppose we could name you Ser Drools-a-lot?"

The Mabari gave a weak whimper.

"Fine, we won't. How about…"

As she juggled names around in her head, the front door of the estate opened and closed. Anders' voice called out, letting her know he was back from his clinic for the day.

"I'm in here," Eva giggled, waiting for the look on Anders' face when he saw the Mabari.

But to her dismay, Anders walked into the study with a little smirk, his hands behind his back.

"What?" Eva asked suspiciously.

"Hold the Mabari," he ordered. Once Eva had a firm grip on his collar, Anders revealed a small tabby kitten, just large enough for him to cradle in one hand.

Giving a little squeak of joy, Eva threw her arms around her Mabari puppy. "They're so perfect, Anders! It's like we have our own little family now, and I can spoil my baby and we can just be… perfect." Beaming down at her Mabari, she added, "And you can sleep in our bed until you're old enough for your own room, and _you_," she smiled, turning her attention to the kitten, "can have your very own bed in our room."

Anders joined her on the couch, shielding the kitten from the Mabari's curious eyes. "I'm not having that thing in my bed," he joked. "Not with as much as he's slobbering right now."

Gazing down at her Mabari with pride, Eva crooned, "Well, if Anders doesn't like you, he'll just have to sleep on the couch, won't he? Tell Anders not to be so mean."

With a pitiful whimper, the Mabari pawed at Anders.

"That won't make me like you any better," Anders frowned. From in his hands, the kitten began mewling softly and stretched forward, trying to inspect the Mabari. "Where are you going?" Anders muttered, pulling the kitten away from the hound.

"They just want to be friends. Isn't that right, dear?"

"Hmph."

"I was talking to my puppy," Eva stated a-matter-of-factly, grinning at Anders' exasperated sigh. "It's going to be lots of fun, taking care of two children at once. It's going to make Aveline rather cross, since we won't have any time to help her anymore."

"Evangeline Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, apostate maleficar," Anders announced. "Thedas would positively crumble without your constant supervision."

"It would," she agreed. Eva nudged the Mabari until he jumped off the couch, then slid over to Anders and rested her head on his shoulder. She stared at the little kitten, its ocher eyes meeting her green ones. "What are you going to name it?"

The kitten began poking at one of Anders' fingers with a tiny, hesitant paw, and the mage chuckled. "I'm not sure. She's certainly a curious little thing, though." He set the kitten on the floor, throwing the Mabari a stern glare.

"Don't worry, they'll be great friends," Eva assured him. "We'll be the best parents in all the Free Marches, and all the other children will be jealous."

Anders draped an arm across Eva's shoulders. "When they grow up, our children will brag to all the other children that their parents freed the mages."

Eva remained silent, wondering if Anders' thoughts had shifted from their young pets to children, running around the estate and sleeping in Leandra's old room and having their father's eyes. That was certainly where her mind was, and the thoughts made her smile. A cold nose on her knee jostled her back to the present, where her Mabari was looking up at her expectantly. "Oh, you poor thing, you're probably starving." She patted him on the head, then stood to find something to feed him. "Anders, we're terrible parents, starving our children like this."

"It's _your_ Mabari," he pointed out. "My kitten is fine."

Rolling her eyes a bit, Eva leaned down and picked up the little tabby, cradling it in her hands. "Hello, dearest," she greeted the kitten. "Let's go find some food for you and your big brother."

* * *

"He's breathing on my face."

"He does it because he loves you," Eva mumbled into her pillow, keeping her face buried away from both Anders and her puppy.

"No," Anders insisted, "I think he does it because he's on _my_ side of the bed, not _yours_."

Eva grunted in answer, rolled over, and fell asleep.

* * *

"Dear, sweet Maker!" Eva shuffled backwards as best she could, her movements hindered by sleep and blankets. No more than an inch from her face stood the little tabby kitten, kneading the mattress curiously. "Anders!" she called. "Come get your cat!"

"She's just exploring." His voice drifted from the other side of the bedroom, from behind Eva.

The kitten plopped down in front of Eva, her tail swishing into the mage's face and effectively cutting off any response she would've had. "Anders," Eva mumbled, trying not to get the kitten's tail in her mouth, "I swear. I cannot wake up to a cat in my face."

His only response was a light chuckle.


	4. Full Circle

**Prompt: Your protagonist is walking on the beach **combined with **Write about the person your protagonist thought they would be at twelve years old.**

**Notes: Evangeline Hawke.** So, I sort of combined two prompts. The second one mostly just gave me a good idea, so I didn't really follow it very well. *shrugs*

And I'm still working on the Awakenings prompt. With school starting back up, I haven't had much time to play Awakenings, and I'm having trouble writing Velana correctly. It's such a fun prompt, though, and will have a longer story than the ones I've already posted. Hopefully the wait will be worth it. ^.^

As always, reviews are loved and welcomed! Prompts also loved! If they're anything but Awakenings, I'll probably be able to get to them in less than a week!

**Full Circle**

* * *

"Is that Kirkwall?"

"That, my dear, is Kirkwall." Evangeline Hawke let her daughter's hand slip from hers, allowing the young girl to race through the sand to the ocean's edge, where she stood on the tip of her toes and peered over the water to the city that held so many memories for Eva.

Never before had Eva been so close to the water. All those trips to the coast when she'd lived in the city, and never once had they left the rocky cliff-side for the thin strip of sandy beach. Smiling for her daughter's sake, Eva slipped off her boots and joined Cailee in the shallow water. Even at only seven years old, she had a somber sincerity in her eyes that could only match her father's.

The waves that skimmed over the top of the ocean were small, rolling into Eva's knees but splashing into Cailee's face, soaking her from head to toe. She waded further into the water, until it reached her waist and the waves threatened to overtake her. Eva almost called for her to come back, but she trusted her daughter's strength.

Cailee was the daughter of a Champion, after all.

One particularly ferocious wave rose clear above Cailee, knocking her backwards into a tumble of frantic arms and legs and red hair. Eva, struggling against the wave herself, rushed to reach her daughter. Before she had made it even halfway, Cailee popped up, her face alight with a wide grin that Eva missed seeing. It wasn't a grin of humor, or happiness, it was a grin that said _I dare you_—a blatant challenge to man and nature alike, taunting the world to try and steal any fragment of bliss from her young heart.

It was a grin that Eva hadn't seen in years. She hadn't ever seen it on her daughter, but she'd once known it to be the signature of the man she loved.

Of course, that had been before.

Before the revolution, before the war, before the running.

The war was over, their lives were safe, but to Eva, it didn't matter. She would trade everything—everything except Cailee, that is—to have those blissful times back.

"Momma?"

Eva looked up in surprise, not expecting her daughter to be so close. "Yes, dear?"

"Have you ever been adventuring?" Cailee's eyes were wide and inquisitive, and her small hand reached out to take one of Eva's.

Holding her daughter's hand tightly, Eva led the way back to shore. "A long time ago," she answered carefully, sticking by her decision that her daughter remain ignorant of the part her parents had played in beginning to war that had ravaged Thedas.

"What's it like?"

Eva remained silent, contemplating exactly how to answer the question. She stepped out of the water, ignoring Cailee's impatient tug on her hand. "It's very dangerous," she decided. "And expensive."

Cailee pulled away from Eva and plopped down in the sand next to her mother's boots, methodically attempting to brush the wet sand off of her feet. "I'm going to be an adventurer one day," she announced proudly, without looking up from her feet. "I'm going to be really famous. I'll have a great big house, and a sword!" Her head snapped up and she offered Eva a gleeful smile. "I'm going to have a sword, Momma!"

"That's great, dear," Eva smiled softly, holding back her insistent disapproval. With any luck, Cailee would grow up to be something _other_ than an adventurer, and this was just a phase. At least her daughter hadn't inherited her parents' magical abilities; even with the revolution as successful as it had been, Eva knew from experience that it was still a terrible thing to be a mage.

That would change with time, she was sure, but Eva was still grateful that Cailee wasn't a mage.

Pausing from her attempt to clean herself of the stubborn sand, Cailee cocked her head to the side and stared inquisitively at her mother. "Was Father an adventurer?"

"Not exactly," Eva whispered, turning her gaze to the calm sea. It wasn't fair to her daughter, she knew, that she didn't like to talk about him. It had been years since his death, but Eva still couldn't bring herself to even say his name; the pain was still too close, too real. "He was a mage," she admitted, not looking back at Cailee.

"A mage?" Cailee ran her hands through the sand, her eyes going wide again as she the sand began clinging to her skin. "Could I be a mage, Momma?" As Eva was about to answer, Cailee pouted, "I don't _want_ to be a mage. I want a sword, Momma!"

Breaking from her silence, Eva promised, "Yes, my dear, you can have a sword. Not now, though, you're not strong enough." Leaning over, she grabbed her daughter's tiny waist and pulled her into her lap, covering herself in sand. Cailee's giggles turned to a high-pitch squeal as Eva began tickling her, feeling a smile of her own beginning to form. "See what happens when you don't eat your vegetables?" she teased.

"Ok! Ok," Cailee laughed, trying to push Eva's hands away. "I'll eat my vegetables! I promise!"

Accepting her surrender, Eva wrapped her arms around Cailee and gave her a kiss on her wet hair. "If you eat your vegetables, I'll let you be an adventurer. Sound good?"

"Yes!"

Eva had no idea that her daughter would take those words to heart, relentlessly following her dream to become an adventurer, and, eventually, Kirkwall's next Champion.


	5. Long, Cold Winters

**Notes: **Warden Kya Surana

Thanks to **Apollo Wings** for the prompt, patience, and for working with me!

I _really_ tried to keep the conversation shoe-oriented, but Zevran didn't like that idea. ;) Hopefully it's enjoyable though! Feel free to give me a prompt to fill (preferably something non-Awakenings...) and of course, reviews are loved and welcomed!

**Prompt: Pre-Landsmeet picnic with Alistair, Leliana, Wynne, and Zevran. Topic of conversation: shoes.**

* * *

"Are you sure… that's what she said?"

"Yes, ser. A picnic."

"That's right," Kya piped up. "A picnic." With a wave of her hand, she shooed the servant boy away and placed a hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow at Alistair's disapproving frown. "No matter how much you sit here and fret, it won't make the nobles get here any faster. I'm so _tired_ of being locked up in this city," she complained, letting her arms drop lifelessly to her side, "so it's a really good idea to get some fresh air."

His frown lessened, but his eyes narrowed in distrust. "Who else is coming?"

"Wynne, of course. And Leliana." Turning away with a little skip, Kya called over her shoulder, "Zevran, too."

* * *

If it weren't so easy to get on Alistair's nerves, Kya was certain she would hate the templar. But, as it turned out, he was decent enough company and it was just so delightful to see him squirm uncomfortably. He was okay with Kya pushing him around—as long as she continued to be the Warden in charge—but it made Wynne furious. Kya was tired of having the senior enchanter follow her _everywhere_, but things had been much nicer ever since Zevran had shown up.

"_Please_," the elder mage sighed in exasperation, "do not refer to any part of my body in that way."

"But it's just so—"

"Zevran!" Kya snickered. "Leave poor Wynne alone." Under normal circumstances, she would've let her assassin go on until Wynne snapped and went into a tirade, but she had decided that their current patch of grass was the nicest they'd seen so far, and therefore would be the ideal location for their picnic. As she and Leliana spread the blanket across the grass, Zevran and Alistair began pulling the sandwiches out of the basket.

Kya flopped down onto the blanket, reaching up and pulling Zevran down with her. She snatched a sandwich away from him, carefully lifting one of the slices of bread up and tugging off the tomato from her sandwich. She held it up in the air awkwardly, not sure what to do with it, but Zevran reached forward and grabbed it with his teeth, grinning at Kya's surprised squeak.

Their antics prompted a disapproving huff from Wynne, but Leliana remarked that she found it adorable. Alistair remained silent, focused on his food.

"I simply don't understand why we would all be invited when it's clear that this picnic would be better suited to the two of them alone," Wynne grumbled.

"Is it wrong to delight in the company of beautiful women?" Zevran questioned innocently, quickly adding, "And don't think I've forgotten about you, Alistair."

"No fighting today," Kya interrupted through a mouthful of sandwich. "It's about relaxing. Let's talk about something everyone likes."

"Shoes!" Leliana sighed dreamily. "And not these nasty Ferelden things. _Real_ shoes."

"There's nothing wrong with Ferelden shoes," Kya pouted.

Zevran chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist. "I'm afraid I must disagree. There is a noticeable lack of quality among Ferelden shoes. Especially the boots."

"The boots _are_ awful," the bard agreed solemnly, glancing down at her own feet. "Back in Orlais, we had beautiful shoes, not these ugly things that suffocate your feet."

Kya cocked her head, pursing her lips as she inspected her boots. They were rather comfortable, she thought, but she also knew they were a size or two too big, due to the fact that the boots were made for humans. "Well, _I _like them."

Zevran threw his head back and laughed, pulling Kya closer to him. "You, my dear, are Ferelden in every way."

"Is that good or bad?"

He gave her a sly grin. "Oh, most definitely good. You know what they say about how Fereldens keep warm during the long, cold winters…"

"No," Kya frowned. "I don't actually."

Alistair groaned. "Oh, I know this one. For years, the other boys in the monastery would tease me and say that it was fondue. Trust me, it's not."

At this, Leliana burst into a fit of giggles. "Really, Alistair? You believed that warm cheese would protect you against the Ferelden winters?"

"I didn't know!" he insisted.

Kya crossed her arms and tilted her head up to look at Zevran, having put together enough of the pieces to figure it out. "Very funny."

From the other side of the blanket, Alistair muttered, "Can we just go back to talking about shoes?"


End file.
